ROADBURN 2023 - the aftermath
A few loose thoughts about all the things this special edition made me feel.
It is somehow fitting that I’m trying to write something about Roadburn 2023 on a day that celebrates freedom here in Portugal, the day we finally booted fascism in its ugly face on that day in April 1974. Roadburn has always been a beacon for open-mindedness, for freedom and inclusivity, this is nothing new. But those are concepts that need taking care of. They need constant attention, evolution and work to still keep meaning something. Fortunately, this is precisely what the festival, through the wonderful people who run it, has not let out of its sight. Everyone who has helped put this edition together, with Walter’s creative and artistic vision on top of that pyramid, should be able to now sit back and feel an enormous amount of pride at what has been achieved here. It’s not just that it was a bunch of awesome artists putting on fantastic performances over four days. Yes, of course it was that, and that is always the main thing – as Manuel from Zeal & Ardor put it very eloquently in an interview we did a few months ago, “if you have the best message in the world, but it’s in a bad song, no one will give a shit”. With an expertly put together mix of new and established artists, running a wide gamut of genres often all jumbled together, Roadburn 2023 had heaviness, intensity, brutality even, but also complexity, weirdness, emotion, experimentation and a healthy amount of sheer insanity in the many, many hours of music that it offered for five days. No matter how much of a pout you might have put on because your favourite stoner band that you’ve seen 35 times before wasn’t there, no matter how grumpy you might have forced yourself to be because we’re not in 2011 anymore, there is no way in hell that you didn’t end up having a wild time and coming out with at least a handful of new favourite artists if you made the right call and still went.
Because let’s face it, the problem for a select few of you out there was never the music, was it? The viciousness of some of the backlash that happened in the last few months towards this edition of the festival, conspiracy video and all, wasn’t really due to your favourite riffs not being played, was it? Maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that the fantastic riffs and beats and screams and all other pieces of noise at Roadburn 2023 were made by a lot of queer people, a lot of non-white people and a lot of women, that really bothered you deep down inside? If that was the case, I won’t even use my first gut instincts and tell you that I’m glad you didn’t go. No, it’s in fact the opposite. I wish you would have gone, and realised that the more people are included and the better environment we create so that everyone feels free to be themselves, the more we have to gain in terms of artistic excellence. Had Roadburn 2023 not strived to be the inclusive haven that it was, and the very musical product that it delivered, along with many, many other things of course, would not be so unforgettable as it was. It’s not just Roadburn that is an example of this – the week before Tilburg, for instance, I was in Oslo for the Inferno festival, and my personal highlight was a band whose members are Native Americans, from the Navajo Nation, the incredible Mutilated Tyrant, who were also the subject of a panel and told us a lot of fantastic stories about the “rez metal” scene. If nothing else, even if your heart is a cold dead stone and you’re no longer capable of any kind of empathy or human connection, do think of that, the next time you feel like erecting walls to separate whatever meaningless differences people have from one another instead of bringing down the ones that still exist. The more people we all let in and strive to make them feel safe and at home, the more awesome music we will have. It’s that simple.
Sure, I’m a tremendous new fan of Storefront Church or White Boy Scream, I was blown away by all the bands that I have been posting live pics from, the Antichrist Siege Machine destruction derby still has my bones shaking, the unexpected wave of love my Therapy? t-shirt got made me all fuzzy inside, all that. But that true sense of community and acceptance is what I’ll really bring with me from Roadburn 2023, especially because it didn’t feel like an arrival, it didn’t feel like a destination. This fearless, boundless spirit can only make things better in every Roadburn edition from now on. I, for one, can’t wait to see what bands will make me rock out in ways I never thought possible from April 28th 2024 onwards. See you all there!
PS: I’ve spammed you enough with festival photos for the last few days, so here’s a little photo dump from everything I saw and did when I wasn’t watching bands. I went to weird museums, I ate and drank a bunch of awesome things, I hung out with beautiful grumpy-faced dogs, goats and alpacas, I was served food by robots, I hugged some of my favourite people in the world that I don’t get to see often enough, and I did all of it in the company of my one and only Estefânia, which is the only way for anything to have any meaning. Thank you so much, first of all, to our gracious hosts William, Lobke and Rommel for their kindness, warmth and hospitality – we love you and miss you already. Breakfast isn’t the same without you guys! Thank you to Becky for including me in the side programme, it was a pleasure and an honour to sit beside such wonderful people in the panels I was asked to moderate. Thank you to the entire Roadburn crew and volunteers for their invaluable work in creating this experience and of course thank you Walter for continuing to guide this community through these fucking bleak and often hopeless times with your vision, never faltering even when your literal vision played a nasty trick on you – you are an example, a beacon of light for all of us. Everything you have created has made our lives infinitely better. Long may you continue to do so.